Out of the Shadows
by MalloryAlise
Summary: Final chapter is up. I hope you enjoythere will be a sequel but it not yet in the works.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer:  I don't own Dark Angel or any of its characters.

Timeline:  First Season, AU (really AU)

Chapter One 

            Max walked into the office and tossed her backpack onto the nearest table.  Rolling her head, she tried to work the kinks out of her neck.  _Stupid prick_, she thought angrily, sending her thoughts raging into the dark abyss.  _Dumbass.  Men are dumbasses_.__

"Max, glad you're back," Zack said as he strolled into the outer office.  Looking up from the file he was reading, he took note of her foul mood.  "Bad assignment?"

            "How could you tell?" She snapped, removing the holstered knife from her thigh and pulling another blade from her boot.

            "Look, I'm sorry about Devareaux, just tell me you didn't kill him."

            Blowing a stray curl from her face, Max straightened to her full 5 feet and 8 inches, quickly moving to stand toe-to-toe with her employer and brother.  "If you ever," she began in a deadly quiet voice, punctuating each word with a stabbing finger to the chest, "assign me to baby-sit another dumbass playboy, you will be the only one who needs to fear for his life."  A subtle sweep of her foot had Zack on his ass looking up at her, "To answer your question, Devareaux is fine.  He should only be singing soprano for a few days.  Now," Max smirked, holding a hand out to her brother, "get the hell outta the floor."

            "Better than permanently," Zack grinned, taking the proffered hand.  "So, how bad of a phone call should I be expecting?"

            Max ignored him and began walking down the hallway, past the ops center to the locker room.  Pausing for a second to listen to the roar of voices coming from the room—room, yeah right, more like the size of her apartment—it sounded like someone was checking up on one the many backgrounds available for the agents.  Continuing her walk down the hallway, she had to admit her siblings and she had created a pretty impressive security agency.  Thanks to their military upbringing, they had been able to bring stability to the lives of many of Seattle's upper echelon.  Protecting people was a hell of a lot easier than stealing and hocking merchandise on the street.  

            Max shuddered thinking back to her early days on the street, before Zack had reunited his scattered siblings.  She had been nine-years-old when the Pulse hit, effectively crumbling Project Manticore, the government's answer to the creation of super soldiers.  The X5's were the lemons of the project anyway, they were slower than the X7's and technologically inferior to the X8's, in short they were expendable.  The Pulse had threatened the funds coming into the project, so instead of being terminated, which would have cost megabucks, the X5's had been set free.  Since Zack had reunited the group and formed Fifth Generation X International, they had taken several commissions from the government.  The old adage of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer was truly paying off.  As long as they made themselves available and proved they were not a threat to the population, the government was perfectly happy denying their existence.

            Max smiled when she saw the disarray of the locker room.  Doors left open, clothes spilling out from various lockers, towels left on the bench, she was home.  Spinning the dial on her locker, she pulled the door open and retrieved her helmet and keys to her "Baby."  Slamming the locker shut, she turned her head to look at Zack who was casually leaning on the locker next to hers, after following her down to the room.  "I'm going home."

            Sighing, Zack assessed his sister's appearance—the ultimate bad girl from the helmet in her hand to the toes of her scuffed boots.  The come-fuck-me lips and the soulful eyes made her look like sex-on-a-stick, which was an advantage for Max because while men were busy underestimating her and thinking with their dicks, she was pulling the rug out from under them.  

            "Okay, Big Brother," Max grumbled, "why are you staring at me like a slab of meat?"

            "Tinga had a little chat with me," Zack replied, "and now I have some good news and some bad news."

            Max stared back at him, unwavering.

            "Good news, Tinga is pregnant."

            A smile pierced the glum expression on Max's face, "Seriously?"

            "Yeah, I know," Zack grinned, "our baby sister.  A definite 180, going from busting heads to mending boo-boos."

            "A 180?  Don't you mean a 360?  Changing diapers and singing nursery rhymes," Max replied, her calm expression hiding her envy.  _Who woulda thunk it_, Max thought wistfully, _I'm jealous of my little sister_.

            "I could believe it when she told me, but that meant I had to remove her from active duty."

            "Which brings us to my bad news, correct?"

            "Afraid so, Sis." Handing her the file he had been reading earlier, he pointed to a black-and-white glossy, "Meet Logan Cale, defender of the downtrodden and all that.  Blah, blah, woof, woof."

            Taking the file, Max perused the information.  "Cale," she paused reading a line, then snapped the folder shut and looked up at her brother, "no.  I said no more Richie Rich's.  Send Jace, I'm not interested.  'Sides she's better at stroking the male ego than I am."

            "I did send Jace, that's why she's flat on her stomach at Mercy."

            "What happened?"

            Zack shrugged casually, "She wasn't fast enough when push came to shove.  Nothing serious."  From the look on her face, Zack could tell Max wasn't satisfied with his response, "A few flesh wounds on her back and one clean shot in the leg.  She needs some time to heal."

            Turning on her heel, Max yanked on the lock breaking it free from the locker door and angrily shoved her gear back inside.  Taking a deep breath she mentally counted backwards from ten…in Latin…twice.  "So who did this guy piss off?"

            Breathing a sigh of relief, Zack glossed the file.  He knew he could pull rank and order her into the field, but Max was at her best when she made the decision to take a job on her own.  "Russian mafia and his rich uncle."  Seeing her questioning look, he continued, "The guy is some hack reporter.  Freelances for whatever rags are left in this country.  Anyway, he dug too deep."

            "What's the package?"

            "The works."

            Rolling her eyes, she kissed any thought of sleeping in her own bed goodbye while the night security patrolled his house.  The works meant 24/7 for as long as it took.  "Hope his check cleared."

            "Cash."

            "Excuse me?"

            "Cash," Zack repeated sounding the word out for her.  "He paid in cash."

            "Five hundred thousand?"

            "Told ya he's loaded.  It's all in the file," he replied pointing at the folder in her hand.  "You've got one hour to get your gear ready."

~*~*~Author's Notes:  I know this story is a little out of the ordinary, especially for me, but I wanted to try something different.  If you feel moved to respond to the story, hit that little button at the bottom of the screen and leave a review.  If not, thanks for reading anyway.  


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The apartment building was nice.  Brick face with no broken windows, always a plus.  The entry had a keypad, which was a strike against the place.  Anyone with a working knowledge of computers could break the encryption code and gain access.  Sliding a finger down one of the first floor windows, Max judged the density.  Poor quality glass that was easily broken and cut.  Another strike.  Piss poor security, the night watchmen hadn't even noticed her casing the building.  

Tightening the straps on her bulging backpack, she gingerly began the climb up the side of the building.  Ignoring the side with the fire escape, which while necessary according to Seattle precedent was another strike against the building, she had entered an apartment in a neighboring building and secured her line to the roof of Cale's apartment complex.  The absence of the moon covered her ascent, and the late night traffic disguised the scraping of her boots against the wall.  Max easily pulled herself over the side of the roof wall, landing soundlessly on the roof.  A quick inspection, confirmed her assumption, no one guarded the roof.  _And why would they_, she thought with a smirk,_ who would be stupid enough to scale a building?_  Stealthily, she approached the skylight that would allow her access into Cale's apartment.

Peering into the darkness below her, Max could see a sliver of light coming from a room about ten feet from the skylight.  _Looks like Logan Cale is an insomniac_.  Max pulled a tube of specially designed lubricant—a gift from the powers that be—from a pocket in her vest and began to apply the solution to the window, before noticing that the casing had already been dissolved.  Cursing under her breath, Max pulled a small communicator from another pocket and sent an inquiry to the boys at ops.  While she hadn't seen anyone around the building, she knew better than to assume Jace had treated the window.  A small vibration alerted her to the response, giving her the response she was looking for, it had been Jace.  Stuffing both items back into her vest, she pulled suction cups from her belt and affixed them to the glass.  Carefully, she lifted the glass and laid it on the roof beside her.  

Poking her head into the room below, Max heard the sounds of keys tapping on a keyboard and the occasional squeak of a chair as its inhabitant tried to get comfortable.  Silently, she dropped to the floor, and headed for the room two doors down from the skylight.  On the blueprints it had been labeled as a spare bedroom, and Jace had confirmed the outline.  She laid her pack on the bed, and moved back into the hallway, the steady click of keys drawing her to the sliver of light.  Max peered through the cracked door, watching the man at the computer.  Stepping back, she judged the door.  The hinges looked fairly new, so she took the chance and opened the door fully.  Not a squeak.  Logan Cale sat before her unobstructed view, oblivious to her watchful eyes, typing.

Max leaned casually against the doorframe, observing her client.  A perceptible tremor went through her body…trouble.  Her gut clenched, and it wasn't in response to the three-day-old Chinese take-out she had eaten earlier.  A quick sweep of his frame, confirmed Jace's observation.  Logan Cale was a very tasty specimen.  But Max had never been one to fall victim to her sex drive, so why was she suddenly thinking how he would taste on her tongue.  She mentally slammed the door on that thought, and took a deep breath, blending back into the shadows when Cale paused in his work.  

Logan Cale paused in mid-thought to shake the kinks out of his back, stretching his arms.  A strange sensation went through him, he felt as though he was being watched.  Quickly he dismissed the possibility and scanned through his last sentence, picking back up the thought he prepared to resume his typing.  His fingers had barely touched the keyboard when he heard the rapping against his office doorframe, followed by a voice, a very female voice.

"Knock, knock," Max stated, as she leaned against the doorframe.

Logan spun around in his chair, a gun appearing in what had been an empty hand.

Max flinched at the sight of the gun, a bad memory leftover from childhood.  Giving him a disarming smile, Max began walking towards him.  "Watch where you point that, Slick."  As easily as the gun had appeared in Logan's hand, a business card had appeared in Max's.  

Taking the proffered card, Logan read the words, while still keeping an eye and the gun on Max.  "Max Guevara.  Fifth Generation X International."  Logan's eyes swept Max's body, taking in her curly hair and lithe frame.  "I expected somebody different, especially after what happened to the last guard."

"You wanted the best, right?" Max asked smugly.

Putting the gun back into the holster hidden under his flannel shirt, he nodded in agreement.

"Jace is fine by the way, thanks for asking."

"I know," Logan replied coolly, "I called the hospital."  For some unknown reason, Logan felt at an extreme disadvantage, having her tower over him.  He grinned when Max took a step backward as he stood from the chair.  At six feet four inches he was a good head above her.  

Max silently berated herself for moving away from him, but she had practically melted from the heat of his body.  Tossing him a grin of her own, she worked on getting back the upper hand.  "I hate to tell you, Mr. Cale, but size really doesn't matter in this situation."

"It intimidated you," he said evenly.

"Nothing intimidates me," Max replied cockily as she sized him up, looking for his Achilles heel.  

"Oh really," Logan responded taking a step towards her.

Delivering the same subtle movement that had put Zack on his ass at the office, Logan was now looking up at her with a quizzical expression, wondering how he had gone from standing to falling flat on his ass.  "Really," Max said giving the man on the floor a rare, genuine smile.  

Logan couldn't help himself, and a laugh broke free.  _Serves me right_, Logan thought,_ I deserved it.  _He dismissed the hand she held out to him and easily got to his feet.  "Care to explain how you got into the building?"  He asked, as he gently brushed past her to stand in the darkened hallway.  

Max followed him out of the room, as if she hadn't just been burned by fire as he walked by her.  _What is wrong with me?_  Max thought irritably, _I'm not due for another cycle for a few months.  Just keep it together, Max._  "I got into your building the same way any other determined individual would, through your skylight." She explained tilting her head towards the missing piece of glass.  "While aesthetically pleasing, they're not very secure."

Logan gauged the drop to be a good ten feet, yet he had never heard her hit the floor.  "I'll be sure to be remember that, Ms. Guevara."

"Be sure that you do, and the name is Max."

"Good, then I can be Logan instead of Mr. Cale," Logan grinned.  "That way I can stop looking around for my father."

Max nodded, her eyes scanning the open rooms on the other side of the hall.  A massive kitchen that would make a chef envious flowed into a large family room overlooking the city from its glass walls, separated only by a counter with a few barstools surrounding the marble.  The sound of Logan clearing his throat, told her that she had been asked a question.  "I'm sorry.  I was casing your home."

Amusement flickered in his eyes, as he suspected that Max was rarely caught off guard.  "I asked if you were hungry.  I was about to heat up some chicken soup and then turn in for the night," gazing at the lightening sky he chuckled, "well, at least for what's left of the night."

"If it wouldn't be a problem," Max said, thinking about the stale Chinese food she had eaten earlier.  

"No problem at all," Logan answered, leading her into the kitchen.  "You get the bowls and spoons, and I'll take of our snack."

Two hours later, Logan was safely asleep, the skylight was fixed and Max had unpacked her gear, stowing things into an empty closet and chest-of-drawers.  Restless because she had slept the night before, she prowled around the apartment using the warm pink glow of the sky for light.  She scanned one of the many bookshelves in the family room, before settling onto the couch with a well-worn copy of _The Great Gatsby_.

After a few minutes, she carelessly tossed the book onto the table in front of her and propped her bare feet up beside the book.  Burrowing deeper into the couch, she allowed the stillness of the apartment to wash over her.  There was something cleansing about listening the world around her wake up to a new day.  She could hear the soft sounds of Logan's breathing and his occasional movement in the bed through the closed door.  The low din of city traffic, as Seattle awoke pushing more vehicles onto the streets.  For the first time in months, Max was at peace.  Shifting slightly on the couch, she settled in for a well-deserved moment of tranquility.


	3. Chapter Three

Mal's Scribbles:  Hello Campers.  Thanks so much for all the wonderful little gems you've been leaving for me—they're just so warm and fuzzy.  I'm leaving tomorrow and I probably won't be back until the middle of next week, but I have a request would someone pretty, please with a strawberry (I hate cherries) on top volunteer to be a bouncer.  (No, not that kind of a bouncer).  I really need someone to volley some ideas back and forth with about a troublesome chapter.  See you when I get back!

Chapter Three

The smell of coffee brewing was enough to rouse Logan from his dreamless sleep.  Exchanging his pajama pants for a pair of jeans and a gray cashmere sweater, he made his into the kitchen.  Passing by the open door of the guest room he glanced inside, noting that the bed had not been slept in.  Shaking his head, he wondered how long Max could go without sleep; his personal best was three days.

Max tapped her foot anxiously, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.  She tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear.  "Why is your coffeepot so slow?"  Max asked Logan without turning to look at him.  She could feel his presence in the entryway.

Logan took in Max's appearance before answering.  Skin tight, long-sleeved red shirt, black leather pants, hiking boots, and her hair still partially damp from her morning shower.  The fact that she hadn't needed to turn to see who was watching her intrigued him.  "Maybe the person waiting for the coffee is too anxious.  Haven't you ever heard a watched pot never boils?"

Max groaned at the expression, and then removed the pot from the heating unit and placed her mug underneath the steady stream without spilling so much as a fizzled drop.  Smirking she replaced the pot, and breathed in the wonderful smell of caffeine.   

Logan smiled at the delighted expression on her face.  "Glad you like my coffee."

"I like any and all coffee, it is one of the major food groups, you know."

Logan nodded and went to retrieve his mug from the counter.  He liked this Max better than the one from last night.  The Morning-time Max was more playful.  After filling his cup, he turned to look at her.  She was perched on one of the stools reading the front page.  She looked too damn innocent to be a bodyguard, but maybe that was part of the ruse.  If she looked innocent she could be easily underestimated and disregarded as a threat.  

"I don't like it when people stare at me," she told him without looking up from the paper.  "It's rude."

"Sorry about that, my mind wandered."  Turning away from her he walked to the refrigerator, "Do you like omelets?"

"I'm not fussy when it comes to food."

"Two omelets coming up," Logan said pulling the ingredients out of the refrigerator, and going to work on slicing vegetables, ham and cheese to go into the buttery egg mixture.

Max was pleasantly surprised when a plate filled with a fluffy omelet was placed on top of the paper she was reading, and another plate set beside her.  She looked up and smiled when she saw Logan filling two glasses with orange juice.  

Handing her the juice, he sat down next to her and proceeded to devour his breakfast.  "Would you give me the Business section?"  

Mentally he forced himself to ignore the tremor that had gone through Max when he sat down next to her.  It was nice to know that he had the same effect on her as she did on him.  An effect that was entirely unexpected.  He had not counted on this kind of attraction when he contacted Zack and asked to be sent a guard.  In the past, he had dealt with Max's sisters, but never even felt a brief interest in them.  Why now, why this one?

"No problem," she responded, dropping the paper in front of his plate.  

As Logan ate and read about the latest drops in the stock market, Max made quick work of her breakfast, finishing before he had even made it to the halfway mark.  He looked up in surprise when he heard her rinsing her dishes off and then putting them into the dishwasher.  "You don't have to do that, Max."

Max shrugged slightly, "You cooked for me, the least I can do is pick up after myself."

Smiling at her, Logan replied, "If you call an omelet 'cooking,' I'd hate to see your usual breakfast fare."  Returning his attention to the paper before him as the price of soy suddenly intrigued him, he continued, "Anyway, the maid will be here tomorrow."

Max's head snapped up, and she stalked over to him, tapping her foot until he looked up at her, "Maid?"

Logan nodded oblivious to Max's rapidly churning thoughts.

"That wasn't in the file."

"Why would it be?"

Looking him up and down, Max trained her glaring eyes on his.  "Get rid of her," she practically snarled as she accentuated each word.

Slightly taken aback by the abrupt change in her attitude, Logan tried for the sympathetic approach.  "I can't, she depends on the income.  Besides, how does this affect you?"  
"Maids talk," she called over her shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen headed for the guest room.  "Hope you have some extra space in your closet."

"What," Logan exclaimed as he quickly vacated his seat, following her into the bedroom.

"Relax," Max said replacing her clothing into the backpack, "your virtue will remain intact," _unfortunately_.

"I didn't…wait…what?"

Max couldn't help but smile at his flustered expression and took pity on him explaining her actions.  "Jace posed as your cousin, which is why they didn't buy the act—it's really hard to fool your own family.  _I'll_ be taking on the role of your very own playmate."

All the blood in his body raced south, as images of Max as his lover played through his overactive imagination.  _Oh this is bad_, Logan thought, _this is so very bad_.  He could barely control the desire to hold her as it was, how the hell was he going to share the same bed with her.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to show me where to unpack in your room?"

Audibly gulping, and shifting in his suddenly too tight jeans Logan tried to take control of the situation.  "Maybe we should just forget this idea.  I haven't heard from anyone in two days, maybe they decided I wasn't worth the effort."

"Ever dealt with Russia's answer to the mafia?"  Max asked as she brushed past him, headed for his bedroom.  Turning her head slightly to study his expression she continued, "I didn't think so.  Well, allow me to educate you," she said tossing her backpack on the unmade bed, and spinning around to face him, "as bad as America is right now, the people over there would still sell their souls for the chance to live here.  They are ruthless, and they will not fail."

"How do you know…"

"Later," Max interrupted, "for now, just clean out a drawer and make some room in the closet for me."

Logan acceded to Max's demand for the moment and allowed the subject to close, while the journalist in him raged.

While they worked on rearranging the room to reflect the façade that a woman now shared Logan's life, Max explained the plan.  The two had met at the museum fundraiser last month and had been emailing one another since then because she had been at the Vineyard.  It was a suitable plan on such short notice, and while not airtight it could work.  If anyone bothered to check their story, which Max had a hunch that they would; the emails would show on Logan's computer, thanks to Ben's uncanny ability with computers.  And when they started prying into the life of Max Guevara, they would find she was indeed at the family home—well, at least the company's safe house—in Martha's Vineyard.

As Max bent to strategically place a few of her 'personal' items under Logan's bed, she found an envelope.  "What's this?"

Taking the envelope from her, Logan opened the seal and read through the words written on the heavy parchment.  "Shit," Logan cursed.

"Problems?"  Max smirked, as she realized that Logan had forgotten something.

"Charity fundraiser tonight," Logan responded focusing his attention on her.  After studying her long enough to make her shift uncomfortably in his gaze, he cocked his head, "What are you?  An eight?"

"A six," Max responded, with a slight look of disgust on her face.

"Hmm, well I'm guessing that you didn't exactly bring anything with you that would pass muster with the social elite in that little backpack."

"You guessed wrong," Max replied pulling out a long piece of shapeless black material.

Studying the cloth in Max's hand, Logan had serious doubts about her understanding of dressing well.  "Don't worry, I've got Chrisa's on speed dial."

"No worries," Max tossed over her shoulder as she headed for his bathroom, "when I'm finished, you'll be drooling over me and erasing Chrisa's number from your phone and adding Csora's."

Logan stared at the shut door, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.  He had the oddest feeling that when she reappeared from the bathroom, his fantasies would have nothing on reality.


	4. Chapter Four

_Thanks so much to all of you who have reviewed, and a very special thanks to Quarkz and Bookangel for volunteering their services.  Oh, and, babee munky, there will absolutely be no wheelchair for Logan, as I don't plan on injuring him or killing him like I have before.  Well, enjoy Csora's contribution to the UST._

**Chapter Four**

By the time that Max stepped out the bathroom, Logan was attired in his tuxedo and sitting casually on the edge of the bed, hands resting lightly on his spread knees.

Max met Logan's questioning look, as he took in the dress.  While the material clung to every curve of her body, it was still shapeless.  But that was because she wanted to have a little fun with Logan.  "What," Max asked innocently, "do I have a hair out of place."

Logan was stunned at the transformation.  Max had somehow tamed her curls enough to coax them into a French twist, and the jewelry was enough to make even old lady Roth envious.  But the dress, while it definitely accentuated her wonderful body was not exactly what he had in mind.  "I thought you said I would be drooling."

"Well I need a little help with the zippers," Max replied mischievously.

"Zippers," Logan practically squeaked from his position on the edge of the bed.

Max nodded, "Plus I've never really been to one of these _soirées_, so I don't how to do the neckline.  I thought I should trust your judgment."

"Umm, neckline?"

"I thought you were a journalist, capable of producing more than one word answers."  _This is great, I haven't even gotten started._  "So," Max continued as she reached under the hem of her dress to find a hidden zipper, "I'm thinking the slit should go to mid-thigh."  When Logan didn't respond, Max decided to push a little harder, "Oh, so you think it should be farther up?"

"No," Logan exclaimed suddenly.

"Okay," Max chuckled softly, "mid-thigh it is."  Pulling on a zipper, Max revealed a long expanse of well-toned leg, and then tossed the extra material onto the bed beside of Logan.  "Now for the neckline," Max said, trying to find the zipper in the back of the dress.  Normally she would have done the neckline before she put the dress on, but she knew it would be more fun this way.  Csora's breakaway dress now had more than one function.  Aside from being the multipurpose 'little black dress,' it was also going to drive Logan Cale crazy.  "I'm afraid I need your help with the neckline, Logan."

Logan knew that Max had said his name, but for the life of him he couldn't quite figure out why.  So while he stayed planted on the edge of the bed, Max took the opportunity to move so that when his brain finally returned his eyes were focused on a well-toned butt belonging to Max Guevara.

"A little help please," Max said, turning her head slightly to look down at him.  "You need to find the second zipper from the top."  Turning her head so that she was facing the mirror, she grinned mischievously.  The second zipper from the top would make the neckline follow the valley of her breasts; usually she would have chosen the first zipper for a simple, small v-line that would have barely skimmed the top of her breasts.  

Spurred into action, Logan stood up, brushing the length of Max's body with his own.  Fumbling, it took him three tries to find the right zipper.  As he turned Max's body towards him, he refused to meet her eyes for fear of losing what little self-control he had left, so he focused his attention on the task at hand.  "All done," he said softly, finally looking up at her, holding the extra fabric in his hand.  "What kind of dress is this," he asked trailing a finger along the neckline.

Max leaned in closer, her lips a fraction of an inch away from his and whispered, "I told you, it was designed to make you drool over me."

Logan was too stunned to say anything, but now _doing_ something was not totally out of the question.  He started to lower his head slightly to close the distance between their mouths, when he saw Max's smirk and quickly took a step back.  "I'm not drooling."

"Of course not, you're just looking at me like I'm an all-day sucker you just can't wait to lick."  Max couldn't help but grin as she walked out of the room, leaving Logan speechless, staring at the ceiling and trying to get his raging hormones under control.  Tonight was going to be so much fun.


	5. Chapter Five

_Mal's Musings:  Okay, I want to start with a big thank you to Emily and Kylie for volunteering their services, you two are the greatest.  Now, it is time for your assignment DA readers.  I need suggestions for Logan's pet name.  I'm thinking something along the lines of Buttercup, but I know y'all can do better than that._

Chapter Five 

            "So, did you enjoy your little chat with Senator Cummings?"  Logan asked as he sipped his third glass of champagne.

            Max smiled, picking up on the note of jealousy in Logan's voice.  "Oh, I always take great pleasure in our little 'talks.'"  She briefly enjoyed the flash of annoyance that spread over Logan's face, "He's a major supporter of our company, and he was surprised to see me here, especially when I'm supposed to be in France keeping up international communications."

            Relief poured through his body, removing the tension lines around his face.  "None of my business."

            "Don't worry, Logan," Max answered in a low voice, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from his tuxedo, "I'm very much yours for the next few days."  Looking back over her shoulder to where Cummings stood talking with another woman, "Besides I think his wife has claimed his affections for the rest of the night."  Returning her gaze to his eyes she added, "Just as she has done for the past twenty-five years.  They are _very_ happily married."

            "You seem to know them pretty well," Logan remarked, snagging another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

            Nodding absentmindedly, Max surveyed the room.  There were a few other senators present at the event, some of whom were most definitely not with their wives, preferring to spend the evening with their west coast mistresses.  Max settled her attention on a woman encased in a sapphire blue evening gown.  

_So Anna is back in town_, Max thought grimly,_ I wonder if Zack knows_.  She didn't particularly relish the task of informing her brother that the woman who had ripped his heart out three years ago and did a little dance on it was back in Seattle.  It would have been better for everyone if Anna Kate Maxwell had stayed in Switzerland.

            Standing beside Max, Logan could feel the tension running through her body.  Reaching out a hand, he gently began massaging the back of her neck.

            Unconsciously Max tilted her head forward slightly, allowing Logan's questing fingers better access.  

            "Hey, what's this," Logan asked, leaning in closer to her neck to examine the black markings his massage had uncovered. 

            _Oh shit_, Max cursed, quickly realizing that the makeup she had applied to cover up her barcode had become nearly non-existent.  Slapping a hand on the back of neck, Max turned on her heel headed towards the nearest restroom, "I'm going to go powder my nose."

            Logan watched her hasty exit, and then turned his attention to the hand that had been rubbing Max's neck.  Rubbing his fingers together, he felt the thick makeup.  _So that's how she covered the barcode, I was wondering_.  _I suppose Zack didn't tell her I know the real truth about Fifth Generation X International and their agents._  Logan snagged a napkin from the nearest table and wiped off the bronze cream onto the pristine linen.

            Max stood in the bathroom, holding a compact in front of her face to see the reflection of her neck in the mirror behind her.  Applying the heavy concealer in the bad light was tricky, but she could only hope that she did an adequate job of covering up the brand.  Just as she was returning the compact to her clutch, the door to the restroom opened revealing Anna.

            Anna's eyes widened as she saw Max standing before her.

            Max inwardly laughed at Anna's own version of the deer-in-the-headlights routine.  "Fancy meeting you here," her voice dripping with unrestrained sarcasm.

            "Max," the blonde acknowledged.  "You look very pretty tonight."

            Rolling her eyes, Max roughly brushed past Anna.  Pausing at the door, Max turned once more to address her brother's ex-lover.  "Stay away from Zack.  If you break his heart again, there is no where you can hide that one of us won't find you."

            As the door shut behind Max, Anna's eyes welled with tears.  "I never meant to hurt him," she whispered to the empty room.

            Logan could tell that something had happened to Max since she left him.  He could still feel the thrumming tension in her body, but it was different this time.  His questioning eyes met her own troubled brown ones, as he cupped the side of her face.

            She took a deep breath and shook her head softly at his expression.  "I'm okay."

            "Sure you are," he smiled softly.  "How about a glass of champagne?"  Snagging his sixth glass and her second from the passing waiter.

            "I think you've had enough of the bubbly for tonight, Mr. Cale," Max said taking the glass from Logan's hand before it could touch his lips.  Clutching both flutes, she set them on a table beside her, and took his hand leading him away from temptation.

            Logan looked wistfully at the sparkling liquid before allowing himself to be led away.  Normally he didn't drink quite so much, but the champagne had been the only way to keep his hands busy and away from the tempting neckline of Max's dress.

            The rest of the evening passed quickly and all too soon they were in the elevator on their way up to the penthouse.  Logan anxiously pulled on his shirt collar, unbuttoning the top of the confining material.  The bad thing about elevators was the small space.  The cramped quarters had never bothered him before, but he had never been in one, slightly buzzed with Max Guevara.  

            Watching the lights click onto the floors, Logan silently counted.  _Seven more floors, six more floors_._  Why, oh why, must I live in the penthouse?_  He resumed his watching, all the while very conscious of the warm body standing closely beside of him.  Tugging off his glasses, he placed them in his pocket, as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.  

            Max smiled, knowing the effect her closeness was having on Logan.  She didn't really know what intrigued her the most about Logan Cale.  It wasn't his body, she had protected much, more handsome men than him.  But there was something about him, perhaps the eyes.  

The sparkling blue depths were familiar to her, but she couldn't exactly place where she had seen them.  And then there was his attitude.  Most men would have fought tooth and nail against the idea of having a female bodyguard, but not Logan.  He just accepted the fact that when he asked for the best and Zack sent her, she was the best.  But it wasn't just that.  A lot of men would have already tried to get her into bed; she had been half expecting it the other night in his office.  Logan was different, perhaps that was why she was drawn to him in a way she had been to no other man.  

Sex had never been that pleasant for her, which was why she had only tried it a couple of times.  Even during her heat cycles, she had taken to locking herself inside of her apartment and sitting under pulsing, cold water.  Studying him out of the corner of her eye, Max unconsciously licked her lips as she pulled down her hair and ran her fingers through the newly freed tresses.  Her mind couldn't quit wondering what Logan Cale would taste like on her tongue.

"If you don't stop looking at me like that, you're going to get more than you bargained for," Logan said quietly, turning slightly.

_Busted_, Max thought as she returned his gaze.  "And just how was I looking at you?"

Under hooded eyes, Logan tossed her own words back at her.  "Like I was an all-day sucker you just couldn't wait to lick."

"Mmmm," Max purred seductively, "you're right.  I was just wondering if you were strawberry flavored or cherry."

Lowering his head, Logan stopped a breath away from Max's lips.  "I guess you'll just have to find out."

Their lips met in a ferocity that should have shocked Max, she had never wanted someone so badly.  By the time the doors to the elevator opened, Logan's shirt had come completely unbuttoned by Max's questing hands and the bodice of her dress was pulled down to her waist.  

Refusing to leave Max's lips, Logan struggled blindly trying to fit the key into the lock.  

Max chuckled at his difficulty, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and began moving sensuously over a certain portion of his anatomy.

Logan groaned into the kiss.  "Max," he said warningly.  "If you don't stop—" his voice trailed off as Max's hand found his zipper.  "Okay, enough."

Max moaned as Logan broke their kiss.  Looking at him through partially veiled eyes, "Why did you stop?"

Finally opening the stubborn door, he carried her inside and slammed the mahogany with a kick of his foot.  "I've always found beds to be very comfortable."

Max licked the side of his neck, "Beds are good, but walls can be equally fun."

If it was possible, Logan hardened even more.  With supreme self-control, he managed to make his way to his bedroom.  Lowering their joined bodies on the bed, he rolled over so that Max was on top of him.

She should have stopped him, but damn it his hands and his mouth just felt too good.  Feeling his fingers pause at the main zipper in the back of her dress, Max nodded, firmly sealing her fate.  She wanted this night, even if that was all there was.

Logan made short work of her dress and soon she was breathing heavily beneath him clad only in her black lace panties, as the bra had been built into the dress.  Standing briefly to remove his clothing, he quickly rejoined her on the bed clothed in his black silk boxers.

Max's hands skimmed the top of the waistband before venturing under the material to feel the skin beneath.  Just as she was thinking that the moment couldn't be more perfect, she felt a sudden and very, unwanted tremor rip through her body.  Closing her eyes tightly against the pain, she tried to get Logan's attention.

Logan had firmly attached his mouth to Max's neck and was happily feasting on the flesh there when he felt the tremor rip through her body.  At first he took it as a wave of pleasure, until he felt her hands pushing against his chest.  Rolling off her quickly, Logan saw that Max's entire body was caught in the throes of a seizure.

"Shit," he swore softly, instantly realizing what had happened.  Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he raced to his bathroom for a syringe.  Re-entering the bedroom, he saw that she was still shaking badly.  "Hold on a just a second, Honey," he whispered as he deftly filled the syringe with tryptophan.  

Logan closed his eyes as he pressed the needle into Max's upper arm and pushed the medication into her bloodstream.  Laying the discarded syringe on his night table, he crawled back into bed beside of Max, wrapping his arms around her silently willing the seizure to stop.  Logan stroked her back lovingly as the tremors finally abated.

"I'm sorry," Max whispered into his chest as sleep claimed her.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Logan said quietly, kissing the top of her head.  He tightened his arms around her, wanting to protect her but knowing that he couldn't.

~*~*Did y'all think Logan was going to get a little lovin?  Hmmm, maybe later, cause y'all need to tell me just how smutty it should be.

~*~*Okay, people, it has been brought to my attention that some of you are simply reading this story and not reviewing.  I for one am shocked—no, actually, I'm not surprised in the least.  I just wanted to quell a few people's fears, and let you know that I'm not one of those of review snobs who think she needs a certain number of reviews before posting the next chapter.  Don't forget your assignment, give me that pet name. 


	6. Chapter Six

_From Mal:  Wow, thanks so much for all the feedback on Chapter Five.  I am still looking for everyone's input on a pet name for Logan.  (Sorry Firmament, but Jobe isn't exactly what I had in mind, at least for this story).  I probably won't update for a week or so because I'm trying to stay at least six chapters ahead of postings.  But, hey, look at it this way, y'all have plenty of time to supply a name before it is needed._ Chapter Six 

Max awoke suddenly in the pre-dawn hours, her heightened senses frantically trying to identify the problem.  She wasn't accustomed to drifting off, especially in a strange place.  From behind, she heard a murmur and a breath break on her name.  The arms wrapped around her waist tightened slightly, and a head burrowed its way into the crook of her neck.  Logan.  The smell, the feel, the scratchy voice.  She was surrounded by Logan.

There had been a time in her life when this kind of closeness would have been unwanted.  Hell, just last week if someone had told her she would be sharing a bed she would have kicked their ass from Seattle to Washington D.C.

Unbidden an image from last night danced in front of her eyes.  Logan undressing her, Logan kissing her, Logan looking down at her with horror in his eyes as she convulsed beneath him.  A lone tear fell from her eye onto the pillow.  _I am a freak.  My first attempt at sex in nearly three years and I forget to take my tryptophan before jumping into bed._  Another image flashed before, one that made her sit straight up in the bed startling her bedmate.

"What?"  Logan started awake.  A tad bit grumpy because he'd been having the best dream about Max…and chocolate syrup.

"That is the magical question."  Max turned to glare down at him.  "_What_, exactly, did you give me last night, Logan?"

_Shit_, was the first thought that came to Logan's still sleep-fogged mind.  There was no point in evading the question; the truth was going to surface eventually.  But the 'eventually' Logan had been hoping for had been 'never.'  But hell, he had been amazed that Zack hadn't filled her in before he assigned her.  

Rubbing a hand over his sleepy eyes, he reached over and put on his glasses as he sat up in the bed beside of her.  "Tryptophan," he softly said, as he kissed any dreams involving Max good-bye.

Max quizzically gazed at him, "How did you know?"

Sighing, Logan shifted so that he was leaning against the headboard, using the pillow as support.  He arranged Max's the same way, and pulled her back against him, surprised that she didn't resist his touch.  "Might as well get comfortable," Logan offered as an explanation.  

Gathering his thoughts, he forced himself to go back to another time before his wide-eyed innocence had been washed away.  "About five years ago, I was ambushed on the street in front of the courthouse.  I had been safeguarding a young woman and her daughter; they were preparing to testify against a drug dealer.  The fight was pretty much one sided, four of them against one of me."  Logan shuddered remembering the sounds of ricocheting bullets.  "Then suddenly, nothing.  I looked around the edge of the van, and saw the four guys on the ground and another man standing over them."

Max felt a chill run through her body, the story sounded vaguely familiar.  "Zack."  It wasn't a question, it was a fact.

Logan nodded, "It took me a few days to track him down, even longer to earn his trust, which I still don't think I have sometimes.  And if he finds out that I've had you in my bed, I'll be owed a very nice black eye."  Giving her a slight smile and gaining none in return, he continued.  "Like I said, we came to a mutual agreement.  He had, and still has, uncanny instincts.  He was barely getting by, moving from place to place.  He said he couldn't afford to get comfortable."

"That sounds like my brother," Max said softly.

"Yeah, he hasn't changed much since I met him," Logan agreed.  "But I convinced him to settle in Seattle, and set him up in business.  Banks, as you know, don't like to finance any new ventures especially to drifters, and, like you read in my file, I'm very well-endowed."

A slight smile played across her face as she picked up the double entendre.  Quickly, she mentally slammed the door on the sexual remark as her brain processed his real words.  Max's eyes widened.  Being caught off guard was definitely a new experience, and somehow Logan had managed to accomplish the feat more than a few times in the past two days.  "Anson Securities."

"Logan _Anson_ Cale, at your service," Logan said rather grimly, holding out a hand to her.

Max passed on the hand and instead trained him with what her siblings called 'The Glare.'

Logan shifted uncomfortably as he found himself trained in Max's eyesight.

"You knew I was an X5.  What I am," Max hissed through clenched teeth.  "You knew."

Logan hung his head in defeat, "Yes."  He saw the fire flash in her eyes, and knew what was coming next.  "No.  No, Max," he fumbled searching for the words, "that's not what last night…"

"The hell it wasn't, Logan," she spat at him.  "Is that all you wanted?  Just to feel what it was like to make it with an X5?"  _Say no Logan, say something_, she silently pleaded.  "Well, let me tell you I've been there, done that and yes I have the t-shirt to prove it."

"Max."

Max jumped out of the bed as if the covers were on fire.  "I will complete this assignment," Max told him refusing to meet his eyes.  "I have a responsibility to the company and to you."  

Finding a soft gray t-shirt on the floor, she hastily pulled it on, hiding her naked chest.  "No matter what happened or what didn't happen, you will be protected."  Max stumbled in the dark room, her keen eyesight failing her due to the falling tears.  How the hell did she get so attached to this man so quickly?  The intensity of the attraction was astounding.

Logan caught her arm in a tight grip as she stumbled and pulled her roughly against him.  Cupping her head in his free hand, he forced her to meet his eyes, "Last night wasn't about sex, Max."  

Loosening his grip, he slowly trailed his hand down the side of her arm trying to calm her.  "Whatever you choose to believe about me, believe that."  The lines in his face deepened as Logan realized exactly what Max had been thinking.  "I would never use you to satisfy some adolescent curiosity."

Max hung her head, silently berating herself for allowing Logan to play her.  And play her he had.  He knew exactly who she was, and it hadn't meant a damn to him.

"That's right, Max," Logan said softly.  

Max's eyes widened, not realizing that she had been thinking out loud.

"I don't give a damn about your genetic code.  I want you."  Gently he picked up her hand and guided it to his heart.  "My brain has been telling me all day to get as far away as possible.  Have Zack assign someone different to me.  My heart," he accentuated by pressing down on her hand softly, "is telling me not to screw this up."

Max studied his face, watching the swirl of emotions play across the blue irises.  "I want to believe you," she whispered.

Lowering his head, he stopped a breath from her lips.  "Then take the leap," he said softly before fusing his mouth to hers.

Max automatically responded to the kiss.  The soft touch of Logan's mouth on her own set off a series of explosions within her body, her nerve endings positively sizzled.  Against her will, Max found herself pushing Logan away.

There was an audible pop as Logan's mouth left her lips.  Powerless, Logan could do nothing but stare questioningly at Max.

Shaking her head sadly, her eyes fluttered shut briefly.  She felt him take a step towards her and she put a hand out to stop him.  "I'm sorry, Logan.  I'm just not ready to jump yet."

Her heart raged as she saw Logan's crestfallen expression, but her pride would not allow her to comfort him.  "I'm so sorry," she said as she walked out of the bedroom, shutting it firmly behind her.

For countless minutes, Logan simply stared at the closed door.  

Max slid down the door, burying her face in her hands.  She heard Logan take a step toward the entry, only to pause and walk into his bathroom and slam the door.

She really needed to run, but seeing as how her clothing was in Logan's bedroom and she really couldn't face him right now she was out of luck.  Not that it mattered really, she couldn't leave Logan unattended and there was no way he was going to join her.  

There was only one word to describe her emotions at the moment…scared.  Max Guevara was afraid.

Not of Logan, not really.  She still carried the emotional scars inflicted upon her three years ago by the cold, heartless bastard that had deemed her unworthy.  Max shivered, seeing the disgust in his eyes as he took her.  She shook her head in a feeble attempt to rid herself of the unwanted memory.  Her mind latched onto a better image, Logan from last night.  There was no look of disgust in his eyes when gazed into her eyes.  If anything, there had been amazement.  Her heart wanted to believe that Logan was different, but her mind would not allow her to fall again.  

Standing, Max slowly made her way into the guest room to retrieve the bag she had left hidden in the closet.

_Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter Seven

_Wow, I really fibbed to you, didn't I?  I said a week and a whole month goes by without a word from me.  Suffice it to say, September was horrible, and the real world really kicked my ass.  For those of you reading, thanks so much for sticking with me._

Chapter Seven

Giving up on trying to analyze the situation, Max preceded with the plan she had outlined this evening while dressing for the charity event.  While Logan's ability to find good in everyone was touching, it was also unrealistic.  Max had sent a message to Ben inquiring about the whereabouts of the elusive maid.  Logan had informed her of the woman's name, Lana Smith.  However, Ben had been unable to find any information on the mysterious Ms. Smith.

It seemed that she had just appeared.  No social security card, no bank accounts, no parking tickets, no formal address, just a post office box in downtown Seattle.  Max had a sinking feeling in her stomach that a new player had just entered the game.

She quickly extracted the bag from the loose floorboard at the corner of the darkened closet.  Unzipping the small pack, she pulled out a tiny chip encased in plastic, and two external ports complete with the newest in disc storage capacity.  She shoved the bag underneath the floorboard and replaced the suitcase that had been safeguarding the hiding spot.

She heard the sound of the bed squeaking in Logan's room followed by mournful instrumental piece as she reappeared in the hallway.  Max paused for a moment to listen to the music.  There was such longing and sadness in the notes.  Closing her eyes tightly against the memories the composition evoked, she battled for control.  The memory passed as quickly as it had come and she found herself opening the computer terminal.  While Logan's office housed massive amounts of electronic equipment, Max zeroed in on the computer she had seen him sitting before the night she came to the apartment.

The computer was connected to six different external devices, including a digital video camera.  Max unplugged the camera, attached one of the external drives to the newly freed Serial port and then turned on the computer.  While the machine did its work, breaking the encryption codes on Logan's computer, Max did a quick inventory of the other items in Logan's office.  She removed the camera's storage disk, breaking it with her hand and then turned to scrounge in the desk drawers beside her for the jeweler's screwdriver she knew would be there.  Finding the small tool, she opened the casing on the camera and fried the circuits inside, reducing the expensive piece of equipment to trash.

The computer in front of her emitted a beeping sound, a frequency designed specifically for X5 ears alone.  She unplugged Ben's password hacker from the computer and connected the storage device she had brought with her.  The little storage device was manufactured to download two mainframe computers, more than enough for Logan's PC and laptop.  Max watched as the screen briefly flashed each file being copied and written to the tiny disc.

Again a small beep signaled the process was complete and Max disconnected the device and hooked it up to the laptop at the far end of the desk.  While the machine copied the files on that computer, Max took apart the terminal of the deactivated main computer.  Assessing the circuitry she had revealed she located the correct spot and flipped open the plastic casing.  Carefully, Max removed the tiny chip housed inside and placed the microchip in the computer.  The device incandesced for a split second, alerting Max that it was working.  

Max put the terminal back together, and then walked over the to the laptop.  Unhooking the storage device, Max called up the Internet.  Ben had created such a wonderful Website for the company.  The site directed potential clients to the necessary links, but it also housed something dark and malicious.  And the menacing threat was one hell of a computer virus available only to active field agents.

Max typed in her password and allowed the virus to go to work.  Soon she was sitting before a smoking laptop, as the virus had effectively fried the internal components.

Max hadn't been paying attention to the noises around her as she worked.  Her senses were still a little sluggish, another downside of the seizures, which explained why she wasn't aware of her observer.

Logan stood in the doorway of his office watching Max speed from machine to machine.  While the mournful, _Valse Triste_ had calmed him, it had not provided him with the comfort or answers he was seeking.  Forgoing the sweatpants on the floor beside the bed, Logan left the room in search of Max clad only in his boxers.  

Logan knew they were moving too quickly, having only met the day before. But damn it, he hadn't felt this way about a woman in a long time.  The intensity and unexpectedness of the attraction should have terrified him, but, like Max, it only intrigued him.  

Yet, now, as he stood in the opened entry to his office watching Max destroy his computers, he had only one question.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Max tensed as she heard the scathing voice originating from the open doorway.  _Shit_.  Max felt Logan moving to stand behind her, as she gazed blankly at the still smoking laptop her mind running through possible scenarios.

"Max?"  Logan said expectantly.  "I'm still waiting for an answer."

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Max asked, pushing herself up from the chair.  Her movement caused the chair to move backward into Logan's awaiting shin.

Rubbing his leg, Logan watched as she stalked out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

Max was halfway down the hall, when she heard movement outside the front door of the apartment.  A quick glance at the antique clock on the table told her the morning had approached and it was now eight o'clock.

A knock sounded, bringing Logan out of his reverie.  He was about to look through the peephole, when he was shoved out of the way by Max.

Ever so softly, she chastised him.  "Are you stupid?  Don't you know that peepholes are the easiest way for snipers to place a bullet in your brain?"  Rolling her eyes at his dumbfounded expression, she continued.  "Ask who it is first, dummy."

"Who is it?"

"Lana," came the muffled reply.

Logan looked at Max expectantly, unsure of what she wanted to do regarding their current states of undress.

Max glanced at Logan's bare chest and black boxers, then at herself, the gray t-shirt barely covering her underwear.  "This could work," she said softly.  "Only one thing missing."

Logan's eyes widened as Max launched herself at him, his body automatically responding to the kiss.  He lifted a hand to the side of her face, but found himself cupping air.  In his dazed, stupor he turned to see a breathless Max opening the door to allow the maid inside.

The woman took one look at the pair before her, and bestowed them with her convincing 'little old lady smile' of approval.  Judging from their appearances there was no doubt in her mind that the only thing Logan Cale was thinking with was his crotch.  Quickly she dismissed Max as an opponent, taking her for a ditzy, social climber that Mr. Cale was apt to attract.

"Oh my," Ilena Tretiak blushed embarrassingly.  "Am I interrupting something, Mr. Cale?"

"No," Logan said awkwardly, as Max laced her hand with his.  "No, you're not disrupting anything, Ms. Smith."

"Of course you're not," Max chimed in a syrupy sweet voice that made Logan cringe.  "I was just trying to convince Loggie to take me out for breakfast."  Max leaned into Lana and whispered in a conspiratorial voice, "We kind of _slept_ in."

_This job couldn't be easier_, Ilena thought as she returned Max's smile.  "I'll start in the kitchen while you two get ready."

"C'mon, Buttercup," Max grinned adoringly up at Logan.  "Help me get dressed."

"Oh, I don't know, _Honey_," Logan said in a low voice, "I like you so much better without clothes."

Max glared up into his eyes, but her steps didn't falter as she pulled him down the hall, loudly shutting the bedroom door.

Ilena rolled her eyes, "Americans."  Picking up her 'cleaning' supplies, she carried them into the kitchen.  She had only been working for Logan Cale for two weeks, and since he had been in the apartment each time she never had the opportunity to check out his office.  _Today must be my lucky day._

Logan stared at Max as she pulled off the gray t-shirt and snagged a bra from a drawer in his dresser.

"What are you waiting for?"  Max asked as she caught him staring.  "Get dressed."

Logan caught the jeans she threw at him before they hit him in the face.  "I'm not getting dressed until you tell me what's going on."

Max finished buttoning her jeans and turned to look him, white shirt in hand.  "We're going to breakfast, just like I said."  When she saw that Logan wasn't going to get dressed without a little more information she continued.  "Look, just put on some damn clothes so we can leave, then you'll get your explanation."

Logan hesitated and then nodded, and began pulling on clothes.

As the two exited the bedroom, Max bent under the pretense of tying her boot and extracted a toothpick from the liner.  _These little buggers are always coming in handy._  Standing, she placed a tentative hand on Logan's shoulder.  "Distract her for just a moment, alright?"

Logan headed into the kitchen, and Max heard him telling 'Ms. Smith' about a mysterious spot on his couch.  Max slipped inside the office and looked around, making sure that she had cleaned her tracks.  Satisfied, she patted her jeans pocket, reassuring herself that the disc containing all of Logan's files was still there.  Locking the door behind her, she wedged the toothpick into the bottom of the door.

She could hear Logan floundering for conversation topics and took it upon herself to save him, it was part of the package deal…protect and rescue.  Max grinned when she entered the kitchen.

"So that's just how I feel about it.  What about you?"

"Logan," Max said sweetly, "I'm certain that Ms. Smith would like to finish her job.  She has more important things to do than discuss the merits of lemon versus pine scented cleaning products."

Ilena shot Max an appreciative smile.  It was hard to be grateful to Americans when they had so much than the inhabitants of Mother Russia, but this one was proving her worth.

"Come on, _Buttercup_," Max smiled up at him, taking his hand and pulling him to the door.  "You promised me breakfast."


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer:  Even though the voices in my head say differently, I don't own them.

Chapter Eight

            "What the hell is going on?" Logan asked Max as soon as they were safely ensconced in the elevator. 

Max sent Logan a withering look, and pushed the button for the third floor instead of the lobby.  "Look, _Mr. Cale_," Max almost felt bad when she saw Logan flinch at her cool demeanor,  "your name may be attached to our company, but you are in no way to question my authority.  That _woman_, your maid has a Russian accent.  Northeast.  Possibly Yakutsk, but Jace is better at dialects than me.  Ten to one when we come back, your office door will have been picked and my toothpick will be lying on the floor."  The elevator dinged as it reached the appropriate floor and Max exited.

Logan slowly followed, "Why are getting off on the third floor?"

"Too many people have been killed in elevators for my comfort," Max replied as she walked towards the stairway.  "As easy as they make prying the top open in the movies, in real life they're bitches to crack."

The pair quickly made their way down the stairs and into the lobby.  Max surveyed the room, but didn't see anyone who looked like they didn't belong in the building.

Max pulled Logan out of the complex and onto the sidewalk.  Looking up at the building, Max had the suspicion that if she scaled the walls and peered into Logan's window, she would find 'Ms. Smith' in the office.  Ignoring Logan's glances, she pulled out her communicator and called the company.

"Hey, it's me," Max rolled her eyes and nodded her head as the tech that had answered the phone rattled on about something.  "Okay," she interrupted, "thank you for the update, Eric.  I need a ride, as close to the client's home address as possible."  An evil grin spread across Max's face as Eric supplied her with transportation.  "Thanks, Eric.  Send a team in one hour to the client's address."  Flipping the communicator closed, she eyed Logan.

"What?" Logan asked feeling uneasy.

"Nothing," Max smiled at him before turning and leading him down the block.  "Come on, our ride is on the next street."

Since it was technically rush hour, the streets and sidewalks were jammed with pedestrians.  The walk to the next street seemed to take an eternity.  Everywhere they turned, there were more bodies filling the streets.  Finally the pair stood before a gleaming black motorcycle.

"I take it this is our transportation," Logan said, gazing at the machine.

"Yep," Max replied, as she ran an adoring hand over the metal.

"What is it, a fifteen valve?"

"Sixteen," Max said, turning to look at him.  "You ride?"

"A long time ago."

"Too bad, I'm driving," Max told him as she climbed on the machine.  "Are you coming?"

Logan hopped on, wrapping his arms around Max as she revved the engine.  He tightened his hold as she pushed the bike to its limits and then went beyond them.  She weaved in and out of traffic, only halting when they came to the end of the sector.

The guard held out his hand as the Ninja approached.  As the machine came to a stop beside him, he admired the rider.  "Nice ride."

"The best," she said, casually leaning back against Logan, trying to dissuade the officer from making any comments.

"Yeah," Logan chimed in, as he followed Max's thoughts.  He tightened his arms around her waist and smiled down at her, "Only the best for my girl."

The officer took the hint and glanced at the sector passes Max handed him.  Hoping to have kept them around for a while, so he could have played with the girl, he sighed.  He was already up for review for holding clean citizens against their will; he couldn't risk adding another strike.  Nodding to his partner, he handed the passes back to Max who looped them around her neck.  "Have a nice day."

"Yeah, right," Max muttered under her breath as she sped off from the checkpoint.

Logan leaned back and enjoyed the feel of Max in his arms.  While not the way he had envisioned the moment, and that was all he had been doing since he had met Max, the feeling was still wonderful.

Max cruised down the streets of a defunct neighborhood, circling the block twice.  She was sure that someone had followed her from Logan's sector, but if he had, he wasn't there now.

Logan looked at the derelict buildings lining the street.  "Why are we here?"

Max ignored him as she fished an electronic device out of her pocket and looked at the readout.  The gadget told her that all of her siblings, excluding Krit, Syl and Brin, were in the building.  Pressing a button on the side of the device, a garage door opened.  _Who the hell is at the office_, Max wondered as she drove the motorcycle into the underground garage.

Logan let out a low whistle as he saw the fleet of very expensive cars hidden under the building.

Max hit another button and the door closed silently behind them.  "Impressed, huh?"

"A little," Logan admitted.

"The company has been doing quite well, which I'm sure you already know."  Max said as she walked across the underground to the elevator.  Typing in a code, the doors opened and Max ushered Logan inside.

"Where are we exactly?"

"My home," Max told him as she pressed the button for the living quarters.  "Well, not really just mine.  This is sort of like our home base, whenever we're not on a mission we live here."  Max glanced at him curiously, "I'm surprised you haven't been here before."

Logan grunted, "I haven't even been to the company headquarters.  I just bankrolled the payouts for about year, and gave your brother the benefit of Anson Securities."

"Jondy thanks you for that," Max smiled as she thought of Anson's head of research and development, Sebastian Kelly.

"What do you mean?"

"If you don't know, I'm not telling you," Max laughed, typing in a code to open the doors of the elevator.  

Stepping out into the massive living room, Logan was overwhelmed by the number of people gathered around the entrance.  Each one looked prepared to fight, but quickly relaxed their stance when they recognized Max.

"Logan," Zack said breaking away from the cluster.

"Zack."

"What's he doing here, Maxie?"  Zack asked, turning his attention to his little sister.

"Building was compromised.  Need to order a full-spectrum clean sweep," Max said distractedly, as she moved away from the entry.  "Where's Ben?"

"Gym," Jace replied as she cast a lingering look in Logan's direction.  She couldn't help but laugh when Max gave her the 'hands off my man' glare.  Holding her hands up in surrender she retreated to the kitchen.

Logan watched the exchange, but didn't really follow the unspoken communication.  Whatever had transpired, it seemed that Max had won.

"Well isn't anyone going to tell me why Max is allowed to bring a _client_ here, but I couldn't bring Charlie until he had signed a confidentiality agreement?"  Tinga asked.

Zack turned to address his gathered siblings.  "Everyone meet Logan Cale.  He owns Anson Securities."

Logan felt as if he were on display at the Smithsonian, as the people before him stared.

Max glanced at Logan's uneasy expression and decided to take pity on him.  "He's a suit, but we won't hold that against him," she joked.

"Aww, man," Charlie moaned in complaint, sniffing the air.  The familiar smell of burnt food was quickly filling the living room.  "Why didn't anyone tell me it was Jace's turn to cook?"

Max smiled.  Leave it to Charlie to break the awkward silence.  "Yeah, that girl burns water.  But Logan," Max paused looking at him, "now he can cook."

Logan easily followed Max's thoughts.  "I thought we were going out for breakfast," he asked rolling up his sleeves and following the same path he had watched Jace take.

"We did," Max smirked, "I took you out, and now you're making us breakfast."

The others followed Logan into the kitchen area, intent on grilling him.  There were plenty of places Max could have dumped a client, even one that owned a quarter of the company.

Max and Zack watched their siblings follow Logan into the kitchen.

"The Pied Piper," Max said softly.

"What happened?"

"Logan has a maid, with a file that must make even the Pope envious," Max told him as she flopped down on one of the couches filling the room.

Zack took a seat opposite her.  "Related?"

"Ben's checking into it."

"You slept with him."

"Who?  Ben?" Max asked.  "Yuck."

Zack ignored her evasive maneuver.  "You know who I'm talking about.  Logan.  You slept with him."

"Who I sleep with is none of your concern, _Big Brother_."

"Max, how many times have I warned you not to get involved with them?"

"And I haven't made that mistake twice, have I?"

"Max," Zack said warningly.

"No, it's always us against them, isn't it?  Well, maybe it's time you learned that they aren't all the same.  Maybe it's time to let them in."

"I'll grant you Logan is different, Max, but still you need to be careful of who you trust."

"I trust Logan."

"Do you really, Maxie?  Can you trust him with your heart?"

"Not everyone is going to be like Anna."

"Just like all men aren't like Carson."

Max jumped to her feet, "Leave the past the hell alone, Zack.  Just leave it where it belongs."

"Why," Zack demanded as he stood, invading her personal space.  "You sure haven't."

Max flinched at Zack's observation.  No she really hadn't moved on, she was still living in the shadows.

"Admit it, you're attracted to Logan."

"So what if I am?  What concern is it of yours?  It's just a weakness isn't it?"  Max asked in a deadly, low voice.  "Phony sentimentality, right?  I guess I'll just have to trust your decision to bring Logan into my life.  Remember Zack, you're the one who trusted him first.  I'm just following my brother's lead."

Taken aback by her observation, Zack could only stand there open-mouthed as Max stalked into the kitchen.  _Damn girl_, Zack thought irritably.  _But she is right, I did bring him into our lives.  I trusted an outsider.  And now he's screwing with Max's emotions._

Max met the sympathetic looks with a pasted on a smile, and chose a seat next to Logan, who was looking quite confused.

Logan had felt the tension in the room.  Before Max had entered the kitchen, it seemed as if all of the occupants, even Charlie, were listening to the conversation in the next room.  Now, glancing around the kitchen, everyone seemed to have renewed interest in their eggs.  "Um, am I missing something?"  Logan leaned into Max and whispered.

A shadow fell across the oak table.  "If you are, I'm sure that Maxie is more than willing to provide for your needs," Zack said coldly.

Max felt her temper flare and started to stand, but Logan beat her to the punch.

"I don't recall asking you the question, Zack."

Max rolled her eyes, and forcefully stood from the table, knocking her chair to the ground.  "I've had just about enough of this.  I'm going to the gym."

Silence filled the kitchen, as everyone watched Max walk out and head to the elevator bay.  Tinga eyed the two men standing at opposite ends of the table, but focused her wrath where it belonged.  Zack.  "If these eggs weren't so good, I would throw them at you."

  


~*~*~ Sorry that it's been so long since my last update.  Needless to say, life has been very hectic and this got pushed to the backburner.  Further updates will be sporadic, but I promise I will finish this story soon.


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: I don't own them because if I did we never would have gone through the agony of the "virus." Honestly people there were plenty of other ways to keep the sexual tension going strong—just look at Mulder and Scully.

AN: I hope this is acceptable reading material. Not much M/L in this chapter, but I promise some shippery stuff in the upcoming chapters. Feel free to email me any ideas or suggestions—I'd really like to know where you all want this story to go.

**Chapter Nine**

Ben glanced over at the opening elevator doors, and then went back to practicing his judo routine. "Got some information for you."

Max nodded, not really paying attention to her brother. She walked across the room and began fiddling with the radio station. She didn't need the classical sounds of Beethoven, she needed something fast and furious. Finally, she ceased her channel hopping as a loud, pulsing rhythm filled the room.

"Need to work off some frustration?" Ben asked, forgoing his routine. "Let me guess," he said with an air of mock sympathy, "Zack isn't pleased with you for some reason."

"When, pray tell, is our brother ever pleased with anyone?" Max questioned as she squared off against Ben.

"Never, but you already knew that."

Max ducked the right hook Ben threw at her. "All too well," she replied, as she nixed the conversation and focused her energy on the fight at hand. Ben was a good opponent, not as great as Zack, but still good.

After thirty minutes of intense battle, Ben flopped down on the mat, breathing heavily. "Okay, enough. I surrender."

Brushing a sweaty curl from her face, Max looked down at him and laughed. "Haven't I told you before, girls kick ass."

"I believe it," Ben chuckled before a subtle move of his leg sent Max airborne and laid her out beside him on the mat. "Gotcha."

"Why you little…"

"I gotcha good," Ben drawled, not the least bit afraid of provoking his sister's notorious temper.

"So you have information for me," Max stated, changing the conversation.

Ben nodded, quickly switching gears. "As I suspected, Lana Smith did not exist until approximately three weeks ago, when she entered the country via New York City."

"Who was she before?"

"Still working on that one, but I did find something of interest."

Max rolled her head to look at him.

"Uncle Jonas has been a real bad boy," Ben said in a chiding voice.

"Logan's uncle?" Max asked intrigued.

"The Russian mafia aren't the only ones who are after him. He's on the shitlist of the IRS and our dear Uncle."

"Really?" Max asked, sitting up on the mat. "What about Logan?"

Ben folded his hands behind his head and continued looking up at the ceiling. "I haven't found any proof that Logan's dirty. Honestly, I don't expect to. The boy's golden, otherwise Zack wouldn't have gotten messed up with him."

"You know who he is."

"Have for some time."

"And you just failed to mention this all to me?"

"You never asked, but Zack should have told you before you took the assignment." Ben looked up at his sister, "You've fallen for him, haven't you?"

"Now why does everyone think that I'm not to be trusted around Logan Cale?"

"You have," Ben grinned, "I knew you would. As soon as I started digging up information on him, I knew you would like him."

"Just because I like him, doesn't mean I'm in love with him," Max said standing, quietly holding out a hand to help Ben up.

Taking the hand, Ben pulled himself up, "Who said anything about love?"

Max cocked her head and rolled her eyes.

"Gotcha again, didn't I?" Ben asked as he followed Max across the room to the showers.

Ben didn't even recoil at the nasty look Max shot him as she walked into the women's shower area. "Yep, I gotcha good."

"Send the information up to the computer in my suite," Max called over shoulder.

"Already waiting for you," Ben tossed back at her still smiling.

Author's Notes: I just wanted to apologize for keeping you all waiting on this story, but like I said, I'm a sporadic updater. My father ended up back in the hospital, I found out I was not an acceptable kidney donor, blah blah woof woof. I'm actually working on another story right now (also DA), but not to worry I don't plan on publishing it until it's finished, and yes I will be continuing Out of the Shadows. Thanks so much to all of you who are reviewing, you guys rock.


	10. Chapter Ten

_Disclaimer_: The show belongs to these really evil people who totally destroyed my happiness when they gave Max a designer virus targeted to kill Logan.

_AN_: I thought I would give you an extra chapter because you were so nice to me and reviewed. I actually have written up to Chapter 13 (which is my favorite by the way because you find out what happened to Max), but I won't post them until after I have written 14 and 15. Happy reading. Please feel free to make suggestions on why you think Logan is being threatened.

**Chapter Ten**

Max had suitably cooled off by the time she returned to the upstairs living area with Ben in tow.

Letting out a low whistle, Ben absorbed the amount of boxes and suitcases on the floor. "Krit and Syl aren't due back today, are they?"

"No," Zack answered, entering the room. "The boxes are what is left of Logan's apartment office. I should have sent them to the boys at ops, but I would rather go over them in private."

Ben was already rummaging in a box. Pulling out a laptop, he looked over at where Max still stood. "My virus?" At her nod he grinned, "I'm so good."

"What's with the suitcases?" Max asked turning to look at Zack.

"I didn't know where to put his clothes," Zack said calmly. "Your stuff is in your room. But obviously, Logan can't go back to his apartment. I was waiting for you to decide what do with his baggage."

"Put the suitcases in my suite," Max replied as she headed to the kitchen, her stomach loudly complaining because she had missed her breakfast.

"What about Logan?" Zack asked, following her.

Searching the cabinets for something edible, she pulled out a box of granola bars. "Put him in my suite, too."

Zack nodded, he had known the answer to the question when he asked her. "He left you a plate in the microwave." Turning on his heel, he started to leave the room.

"He really isn't like them, is he Zack?" Max asked quietly as she turned to start the microwave.

Zack paused in the doorway, not turning around to look at her. "No, he isn't," he said softly, "but how do you convince yourself of that?" He waited a moment for Max to respond, but when she didn't he left the room.

Max sat down with the heated food, and pushed the eggs around on the plate. While she had been ravenous minutes ago, her appetite had dwindled. _Zack trusts Logan, so why can't I?_

Logan stood quietly in the entryway of the kitchen, watching Max. She seemed so lost, so vulnerable. "You're meant to eat the eggs, not play with them." Venturing further into the kitchen, he pulled out the chair opposite her own and sat down. "You do realize that you're insulting my culinary skills."

Max tried to hide the grin that was stealing across her face. "Aww, is my Buttercup's ego suffering?"

Logan's retort was frozen on his lips, as Ben's voice filled the kitchen.

Rolling her eyes, Max dropped the fork onto the plate and pushed away from the table. "Maybe you could show me the extent of your culinary skills later?"

"That's a promise," Logan grinned as he opened the door for her.

"I'll hold you to that," she smiled at Logan before turning to address her brother. "You bellowed."

Ben looked up from the coffee table laden with the innards of the digital video camera. "Temporary storage unit?"

"I tore it apart."

"With your hands, or did you crush it with a boot?" Ben asked, praying that it had been with her boot.

Max thought it best to keep quite about the fact that she had only been wearing her panties and one of Logan's t-shirts when she had dismantled the office. "My hands."

"Problem?" Zack asked, glancing up from what remained of the laptop.

"Maybe," Ben replied, biting his lip.

"Let me guess, the storage unit isn't in any of the boxes your boys brought over?"

"Sorry Logan," Ben said looking worried.

"But I broke it," Max argued. "What good could it possibly be?"

Ignoring Max's question, Logan addressed Zack. "Is it possible that your employees missed something in their cleanup?"

"No, they're trained to pack anything and everything, right down to what's in the trashcans."

"I repeat, what good is a broken storage device?"

"If a person has the right technology, technically he or she could extract a latent image despite the damage," Logan answered Max, looking upset.

"Which," Ben interjected, "shouldn't really be a problem. Unless," Ben grinned wickedly, despite the severity of the situation, "Logan, are you a _naughty_ boy?"

"Logan, doing something that's not on the straight and narrow, please." Zack started to laugh at Ben's question, until he saw Logan's grim expression.

"Depends on what you mean by naughty," Logan said. "If you mean, illegal…well, does taking over every single broadcasting signal for roughly sixty seconds whenever I choose count as illegal?"

"What are you talking about?" Zack asked, confused by his friend's ambiguous answer.

Max's mind, meanwhile, had been turning a mile a second. The eyes, the sparkling blue depths that had her mesmerized from the first day. The same eyes that had peered into her soul as she lay, panting under the weight of his body. That was how she knew them. "You're Eyes Only."

"Give the lady a prize," Logan joked humorlessly.

"Oh, well this is just great," Zack paced angrily. "Not only are you being threatened for God's know what by the Russians, but now they most likely know you're Eyes Only." Whirling suddenly, he came to stand toe-to-toe with Logan, "I fail to see how this becomes a laughing matter."

Max, for her part, was stunned. She had been trying to determine why Logan was so familiar to her for the past few days, and now she knew. "My, my, Mr. Cale," Max tutted, her voice laced with hurt, "aren't you the man with a thousand faces? First, you're just some hack reporter with a sizeable trust fund, and then you're the owner of Anson Securities. Let me guess," she said in a deadly low voice, "since you told me you were the head of Anson Securities after you failed to screw me, but certainly not for a lack of trying on your part, were you planning on telling me that you were Eyes Only in the middle of _fucking_ me or afterwards?"

Logan blanched at the intense hurt radiating from Max's words, but didn't have time to form a response as Zack's fist connected with his face.

"I need some time," Max told Ben, as Zack was occupied with decorating Logan's body with bruises. "Keep him busy, but make sure Zack doesn't kill him." Smiling when Logan deflected a punch, "And then, make sure that Zack understands I am old enough to decide who I share a bed with, okay?"

"No problem," Ben said with a laugh, as Logan somehow landed Zack on the floor. "Did you teach him how to do that?"

Max nodded and then grabbed a jacket from the hook by the elevator.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Trying to forget the scene that she had just left, Max sped away from the complex on a motorcycle. While not her Baby, the machine was still pretty nice. Most importantly, the bike had speed. Loosing herself in the ride, she was surprised when she ended up outside the Generation X building. Checking her watch, she saw that she had only been gone for an hour. _Plenty of time to check in without being cornered by Zack or Logan._

She hadn't really had time to check her messages or even fill out paperwork after the Devareaux case. Stepping into the office she shared with Zack, she was surprised to find the lack of papers and folders on her desk. When she had left, there had been a stack of folders almost two feet tall. The intercom in the office crackled once and then came to life.

Eric's muffled voice filled the office, "Ms. Guevara."

Sighing, Max hit the button on the phone system, "What is it, Eric?"

"I just wanted to let you know, that I left your messages on Mr….uh…on your brother's desk," Eric hesitated. He was always uncertain about the relationship between the owners of Fifth Generation X. They claimed to be siblings, but they all had different last names. "He was busy clearing off your own, and I didn't want the messages to get lost."

"Okay, thanks."

"Do you need me to come find them?"

"No," Max replied, "no, I think I'm perfectly capable of finding them myself." Max rolled her eyes, it seemed that Eric's infatuation with her was growing.

"Are you sure I can't do anything to help?"

Hearing her stomach rumble again, she decided Eric might have some benefit after all. "Actually, I skipped breakfast this morning. Could you run out and pick me up some Sweet and Sour Chicken with fried rice and a few egg rolls from Mr. Miyati?"

"Anything for you," Eric replied.

Max heard a small commotion coming from outside the office door, as Eric dashed out the door, colliding with another secretary. Walking over to Zack's desk, she rifled through the messages. Flipping through the papers, she saw that Devareaux had left her several messages. Chucking them in the trashcan she noticed a crumpled newspaper.

Extracting the paper from the garbage can, she straightened out the wrinkles. **_Oil Tycoon, Richard Maxwell, dead at 54_**, the headline leapt off the page. _So that's why Anna is back in town,_ Max thought.

Being the nosy sister that she was, she flipped through Zack's messages. Frustrated, she placed Zack's notes back on his desk. "Not a single one from Anna," Max said quietly, "but that doesn't mean that she hasn't called. I have been gone for a while."

Max sat down in her chair and spun around a couple of times, before propping her feet on her desk. "How did my life become so complicated?" she asked the empty room. Not only was she a multimillion dollar, highly trained super soldier with a few minor defects she was working for her older brother. And now, to make the situation worse she had fallen for the silent partner, which she had never known existed, of the company. "Could life get any more complex?"

Whirling around in the chair, Max leapt to her feet just as the knock resounded in the office. "Enter."

Sherise, from research, popped her head through the door. "Hi, Max," she bubbled with enthusiasm.

"Hi," Max replied. Sherise was a wonderful person, really she was, but her personality was a tad overbearing at times. This was one of those times.

"Is Zack coming in today?"

"I really don't know," Max responded, thinking of the scene she had fled.

"Oh," Sherise said looking disappointed, "well, I'll just leave his request on the desk."

"Request?"

"Standard work-up on the Maxwell case."

"Really?" Max took the folder from Sherise's hand, and flipped it open to scan the contents inside. "I'll make sure that he gets it."

"Okay."

Max rolled her eyes as Sherise closed the door behind her. Honestly did all of the employees have crushes on her siblings and herself? Sitting on the edge of the desk Max, was just getting past the preliminary workup when her intercom crackled to life.

"Mr. Jacobs is on line two for you, Max," came the disembodied voice of Krissa, one of the many interns in the office.

Max casually tossed the folder onto the desk beside her and picked up the phone. "Weren't you supposed to check in yesterday, Zane?"

"Max? What are you doing answering Zack's phone?"

Max bristled. "It's my office, too, you know."

"Well, yeah, but you're usually…"

"Babysitting," Max supplied for him. The siblings each had their strengths, and Max's just happened to be in protection. "Get to the point, Zane."

"I need a ride."

Punching a command into the computer, Max brought up Zane's current assignment.

_Argentina. Cattle Farm. Investigating an explosion at a slaughterhouse that had crippled a major U.S. beef importer_.

Skimming over the information, she glanced at the travel itinerary on file. "You have a flight on Wednesday."

"You're not hearing me, Maxie." Zane let loose a series of words that made even Max turn red. "Where the hell is Zack?"

"Occupied at the moment," Max gritted out. "Now, tell me why you need a new ride."

Exhaling deeply, Zane tried to get himself under control. Max was his sister, and it wasn't her fault that she didn't really know shit about how foreign ops could go wrong in the space of a few seconds. "I was sent down here to handle a situation, I handled it. The people who hired us are not happy with the job I performed, and they are looking for me. Now I need a new ride."

"Well, why the hell didn't you just say so?" Punching in a new series of commands brought up the locations of the other foreign operatives. "Jackson has a plane in Chile, he's the closest to you. He can pick you up on his way to rendezvous with Krit and Syl in Spain."

"Hell of a long way to go for a rendezvous," Zane muttered. Trying to picture Jackson, Zane ran through a list of memorized photographs. "Dark hair, my height and weight."

"Jackson? Yeah," Max agreed, opening a new screen to study to the man in the photograph.

"Have him a ticket back to the States waiting for him in my real name, not Samuel Peters. I'll fly on to Spain in his plane and collect Krit and Syl."

"Water that hot down there?"

"Hotter by the minute," Zane replied. "When I pick up Krit and Syl, I may do a little reconnaissance."

"Translation, I'm going to whether you like it or not."

"I promise, it'll be just a little trip to Johannesburg."

"I'm giving you a timeline of three days, starting when Jackson lands in Argentina."

"Got it."

Max heard the hum of the terminated phone call, "Good luck." Shaking her head, she disconnected and punched in another phone number.

"Trevor."

"Trevor, it's Max. Zane needs a new ride. I want you to pass the word to Jackson in Chile. When he lands in Argentina make sure that he has a passport waiting for him in Zane's name, _Zane's real name_, and that Zane has the necessary identification to get him safely to Krit and Syl."

"Understood."

Max paused a moment before terminating the connection. Listening to the flurry of activity in the small office was a comfort. The company had some of the best people in the intelligence community. "Thanks, Trevor."

Glancing from the phone to the Maxwell file, Max smiled. She had just reached to pick it up when the intercom crackled once more.

"Ms. Guevara, I have your food."

"Thanks, Eric." Max muttered distractedly as she snagged the folder and opened it. Intently she flipped through the pages and almost missed Eric's warning.

"One of your brothers called."

"Hmmm, what did he say," she mumbled reading about the circumstances of Richard's death.

"He said to tell you 'head's up'."

"What?" Shutting the file, Max laid it back on Zack's desk and gathered her jacket from the back of the chair. Exiting the office, she stopped in front of Eric's desk and grabbed her bag of food. "When did he call?"

"Just a minute ago."

"I haven't been here."

Eric grinned adoringly at her as Max practically ran out of the office. "Of course not."

Twenty minutes and one slightly pissed sector officer later, found Max perched high atop the Space Needle staring out over the city.

_Ha, ha. I bet no one thought that this story would ever be updated. Sorry my friends, for the long delay, but life has truly been an adventure. College, kidney transplants (my dad), babies (my new niece), and work have been getting in my way. I'm reworking chapter twelve as we speak so look for it in May._


	12. Chapter 12

_Short AN: This is the final chapter, I hope you all enjoy it. I really enjoyed being able to write such a well-received story and hope that my next venture will be just as appreciated. Thank you readers, you're the best. _

**Chapter Twelve**

Logan watched Max's retreating figure from his position under Zack. With a sudden burst of energy, Logan refocused his attack and flipped his opponent off him reversing their positions. Tussling with an X-5 was a damn bit harder than working out with his trainer.

Finally Zack pushed Logan off and stood up at the same moment Ben moved away from the elevator doors.

_A diversion_, Logan thought getting to his feet. _She needed to run and starting a fight between her brother and me was the best she could do. I expected better._ He stiffened slightly when he felt Zack move up behind him, and silently berated himself for showing the weakness.

Awkwardly, Zack placed a hand on Logan's shoulder, attempting to comfort the man who had done so much for him and his siblings, despite the fact that he had just beat the shit out of Logan. "Give her some space."

Logan grunted. "That's all I have been giving her. Space." Flopping down on the carpet, Logan went for broke. "I don't understand, Zack. I can have any woman, why did I fall in love with the one person who refuses to even give me a chance?"

Zack folded himself onto the floor beside of Logan and studied the man alongside of him. Maxie could have done a lot worse than Logan Cale. He was strong, intelligent, and not afraid to go after what he wanted. "Hell, Logan, none of us know how to trust worth a damn."

"Believe me, I know that fact real well."

Zack grinned and nodded in agreement, before darkness overtook him. "Max…well, Maxie is different. She changed, _someone_ changed her. When we were younger, and even up until a few years ago, Max looked for the best in people. Then," Zack paused searching for the right words, "then she became like me. Untrusting. Cold."

Logan started to speak, and then remembered who he was with. If he wanted to live, he had better keep his damn mouth shut about just how hot Max could be when given the chance.

"You said someone changed her." Logan stated, intently studying Zack's face. "Who?"

"Carson," Zack grimaced, the name left a bad taste in his mouth. Regardless of the fact that he didn't know exactly what transpired between his sister and the man, he still felt an intense hatred towards him. "It was her first deep ops assignment. Allan Cummings, _Senator_ Allan Cummings," Zack corrected himself, "had been receiving anonymous threats. To appease his wife, he used his government connections to secure the services of our company."

Logan nodded, showing that he was following Zack.

"Everyone was busy, and I was stuck babysitting Richard Maxwell's daughter so I sent Max to him, under the guise of a personal assistant. Despite my warnings, Max got herself mixed up with Carson. I swear the boy could have told Max that the sky was neon green, and come hell or high water she would have believed him over anyone else."

"I find that hard to believe," Logan said, thinking of the fiercely opinionated woman that haunted his dreams.

"He was a real number," Zack explained. "I was on assignment when I got the call, it was Max telling me that the threat had been eliminated and Carson had died. She told me he took a bullet for her, but I don't buy it." Zack shook his head remembering the day. "Max completely shut-down after that. She immersed herself in the job until she became a shadow of her former self."

Logan digested the information and then nimbly pushed himself off the mat. Standing he stretched out a hand to Zack, surprised when he took it and pulled himself up. "I've got to find Max."

Zack thought for a minute, tightening his grip on Logan's hand. "I know where to find her."

* * *

Max knelt in front of the tombstone, a look of torment etched on her face. What she was doing to Logan was killing her. She hated Carson more than ever, for the pain he was still causing her.

She looked at the roses that had been placed on his grave. Knowing they were from his parents, she picked them up and waved them menacingly at the marble stone before reducing them to a very expensive pile of thorns and petals. "You don't deserve them."

Max looked at the blood gathering on her palms. The pain was good; it reminded her she was still alive. "You didn't deserve me." She could picture Carson laughing at the hold he still had on her, and the rage welled up inside of her.

Max heard the noise behind her and stiffened slightly, smelling the air. Cologne. Logan. Knowing that he had not come unaccompanied, she spoke out to her brother. "You can go now, Zack."

Zack gave her back a hard stare, willing her to turn around, but after a moment he relented. Giving Logan a slight push toward Max's kneeling figure, he disappeared.

She felt Logan move to stand next to her. "Logan Cale, meet Carson Cummings."

Logan knelt beside her, placing a tentative hand on her knee. He was somewhat encouraged by the fact that she did not pull away from his touch. "What did he do to you, Max?"

"Is it that noticeable?" She asked quietly, not wanting to know the answer.

Logan couldn't tell if she wanted to hear the truth so he remained silent, and after a long moment she began to speak.

"Carson was the golden boy. The apple of his parents' eyes, if you'll excuse the colloquialisms," Max half-heartedly grinned. "I thought he was perfect, at least at first."

Logan tensed beside her, fearing what was coming.

"I brushed off the rough sex and the comments he would toss my way. I was young, stupid, and, I thought, in love." Max felt Logan's hand leave her knee, and his arm wrap around her. She leaned into his presence, absorbing his strength. Letting out a deep breath she continued. "I've never told anyone what really happened the day Carson died. I think Zack suspects, but he doesn't know for certain. I told him Carson died saving me. Yeah, that's really believable when I have reflexes like a cat. But Zack didn't press and I didn't volunteer."

Logan tightened his embrace around Max's shoulders, wanting so much to protect her from the pain of the memories. For a brief instant, Logan wished Carson were alive so that he could personally send the scum to Hell.

"After a few days of warming his bed, Carson found out what I was," Max explained. "I don't know how exactly, but he knew. He took great pride in the fact that he had control over me. Me, a genetically engineered super soldier, was being played like a puppet on a string. The bruises were easy to hide," Max shuddered.

Logan turned her gently in his arms, wrapping her tightly in a hug as he pulled her into his lap. "It's okay, Max. You don't have to tell me anymore, if you don't want to."

Max turned her face to the side and breathed in Logan's scent. She needed this; she needed to do this three years ago. "I'm okay," she whispered against his neck. "I need to do this."

Logan nodded, softly stroking her hair.

"A few weeks passed, and I overheard him talking to his _friends_ about me. About what a great screw I was because I liked it really rough." Max closed her eyes against the pain, "I woke up. I finally woke up and took a look at what I had become. I was just someone else's toy, a puppet in another collection. The day he was killed, I broke up with him. I was standing on the steps outside his father's office, when he found me. He threatened me, bullied me, and just when he was about slap me he fell into a pool of blood. There was a hole in his chest, two inches to the left and I would have had a matching one in my own. I could only watch as he fell."

Max sniffled, and wrapped her arms around Logan's neck causing him to tighten his own embrace. "I heard another shot and turned to see Allan holding a gun in his hand. I looked across the street to where a man sat facedown in his linguine, a sniper rifle peering out from under a napkin. I lost it. I just dissolved into tears. Allan thought I was crying for his dead son, and wrapped me in his arms saying what a pity it was that Carson didn't know what I was." Pulling away slightly so that she could look at Logan, she was surprised at the tears she saw reflected in his eyes.

His once bright blue eyes were now a misty gray as a stray tear fell down his cheek. Something inside of Max broke at the sight of Logan crying her tears. "But I wasn't crying for him, Logan. I was crying for myself. I was crying for all the things that he had taken from me that I could never get back."

Max drew in a shaky breath, determined to close the door on the past. "Carson Cummings raped and beat me. He stripped me of my humanity by making me feel that I wasn't worthy or capable of love."

Logan's heart was breaking as he watched the woman before him conqueror the old ghosts. He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. "You are worthy of love, Max," he said softly. "And you are loved. By Zack. By your siblings. By your friends. They all love you, Max."

Max's heart skipped a beat, as he paused searching her face before continuing.

"And by me. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. And right now, watching you go through this, I love you even more if that's possible."

"How," Max's voice broke over the question, "how can you love me, knowing what I am? I'm not even human."

"Being human has nothing to do with how we are brought into this life," Logan said, stroking the side of her face. "Being human has everything to do with how we choose to live this life and interact with others. Carson Cummings wasn't human, but you…you take my breath away."

Max dropped her head as Logan's words washed over her. She felt cleansed. Smiling, really smiling, she was free.

Logan's heart stopped as he watched Max lower her head. Thinking that she didn't believe his words, he kept speaking. "I love you. I love everything about you," he desperately tried to assure her.

Lifting her head, grinning, she laughed at the look on Logan's face. "Would you just shut up a minute." Seeing that Logan was shocked into silence, Max took the opportunity to pull his face towards her own. "I love you, Logan Cale."

Logan stared into the brown depths of her eyes for a moment, before a smile formed on his own face. "I love—" he stared to say, but his sentence was cut off as Max fused her mouth to his.

Two hours had passed since he had left Logan with Max, so Zack wasn't surprised when the elevator doors opened to reveal their smiling faces. Zack grinned at them, quickly hiding the file that he had been reading. "Good afternoon."

Max smiled mischievously over her shoulder at her brother, as she pulled Logan down the hall to her room. "Good _night_," she called out in a singsong voice.

Zack chuckled as he heard a muffled thud and the sound of a door slamming. When they had first moved into the building and began renovations, Krit had suggested soundproofed rooms because he 'really didn't need to hear his siblings banging the gong.' _Thank God for Krit's idea_, Zack thought with a brief smile walking into the kitchen.

No matter what the future would bring, they would face it together…as family.

_Author's Notes: I know I promised a case and did not deliver, but that is what a sequel is for. I really need to watch my DA season 1 and rediscover how much I love and enjoy the show and the characters. There was supposed to be a chapter thirteen but I just decided to wrap it all up. I'm working on something else—that is very OOC for the couple and I don't know how it is going to develop. Thank you so much for staying with me._


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